


Her Angel

by ran_ranarroz



Category: Ambiguous Fandom, Original Work, The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood Drinking, Bloodletting, Bondage, Downworlders, Dream Sex, Dreams, Drugs, F/M, Fear, Fetish, Language of love, Mundanes, Oral Sex, Other, Prosaics - Freeform, Sexual Tension, Sorry Not Sorry, Underworld, angel - Freeform, female demon - Freeform, probably more blood, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ran_ranarroz/pseuds/ran_ranarroz
Summary: Demon-kin by the name of Mara who lives in an undisclosed estate of hell is silently asking a favor from the angel Rama.Prosaics are humans in the real world and are looked down upon by demons and angels alike, for obvious reasons. The powers that each character has is largely undefined and both will be revealed as the time comes, meaning many aspects of their persons may go unrecognized, I leave that to the reader to interpret on their own.A lot is assumed of the readers previous knowledge, I intend to give the reader this kind of control over your understanding and interpretation of what is to come. But if you wish for clarification or more do ask.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting, this fic isn't really specific to characters in the Shadowhunter novels, however the novels stemmed my ideas for it. I am fascinated by the depiction of underworlder and downworlder characters. This is just a start and I have no idea where it is going. I hope you can tolerate it. I will try to post weekly.
> 
> Let me know what you like and what you don't like, though no promises, I write what I like. Happy reading. :)

“Give me your hand, darling,” She held out her leather covered hand for him to take. He didn’t move. Her blood red lips slowly split into an endearing smile.

The candles on the walls of the castle created arrays of dancing shadows along the corridor. Though among the lighting he stood out the most. He wore a simple pair of light blue jeans and no shirt. That wasn’t uncommon for angels, it was more work to cut holes for the wings then to just not wear a shirt. His wings were soft but strong and rested neatly folded on his back, the white feathers gleamed brightly even in the dim light. His blue eyes pierced through to her and his fair hair was tousled and somehow managed to appear as if it glowed, as well.

He was beautiful and good. And he made a mistake.

He knew he shouldn’t be here. He should have left hours ago when everyone else had. Either his glow grew stronger or the lighting throughout the corridor grew darker. The castle was much warmer than he thought it would be yet a small vacuum seemed to flow through the hallway.

“I don’t know how that would benefit me,” His wings shifted slightly as he spoke, his voice deep but extremely gentle. Almost as if he was afraid his words would hurt someone and he didn’t want to take any chances.

Her grin only deepened causing a dimple to appear on her cheek and her golden eyes to crinkle in the corners. Her short black hair was spiked in random places. She wore black leather gloves and a dark red dress that left her arms bare and stopped just above her knees. Her shoulders each had a circular golden medallion clasped to the thin material that draped a black cloak to the floor. The piercings in her ears almost distracted from the fact that they were pointed. She had a long smooth, red tail that silently floated out from beneath her skirts and was poised around her.

She was beautiful and evil. And she wanted to make a mistake.

“Angel, darling, let me show you,” She took a step closer to him and beckoned again with her hand. His eyes followed the lazy, fluid motions of her tail as it floated around her outstretched hand.

The angel knew his own strength but was surprised when his hand reached across the expanse to grasp hers. He could feel the immense heat that radiated from her skin even through the leather of her gloves, his wings thumped gently almost blowing out the candle torches at his sides.

The smile left her lips and she turned to lead him down the hallway.

***

“You are quite aware, Rama, darling, why I brought you here. Yes?” She raised her eyebrows as she handed him a glass of a thick, sparkling blue liquid. She had led him into a grand room with bookshelves lining the walls and a large wooden table in the middle with maps and atlases scattered about. The room was dim from the torch light scattered along the walls and the gold theme gleamed amongst the red colors. There was one large window on the far wall but it was completely covered in heavy velvet drapes.

Rama stood near the fireplace examining the picture above the mantel, one arm propped up on the gray stone wall beside it. When he turned and cautiously but graciously retrieved the glass the firelight made the tips of his wings look as though they were on fire themselves.

“No, Mara, I’m afraid I’m not.” He glanced at the liquid in the glass but took a polite sip. It tasted like spicy ginger with a rather lovely aftertaste of blueberries. Needless to say he was pleasantly surprised and found himself taking another sip.  _ Addictive powders _ , the thought crossed his mind, he gave a small smile in thanks just the same.

Mara’s grin widened and her tail encircled her forearm of her right arm as if seeking warmth. The firelight made her skin seem extremely pale. Where as she gave off a sickly pallor he was a soft white glow, gentle on the eyes. “Baby, I need a favor from you.”

His eyes regarded her with suspicion, he somehow managed to doubt someone in a gentle way. “With all due respect, madam, I don’t see why you couldn’t have asked a friend of yours at the party,” He went to take another sip of the blue liquid and thought better of it, placing it on the mantel. He turned his gaze to the fire, the sparks, an unusual ruby red, bouncing off the logs. “Mors was awfully friendly this evening, dare I say.”

She laughed, a throaty laugh. It was beautiful but gave you shivers and made you feel as though something horrible was about to happen. “Ah, yes. Mors. He tries so hard and you’re so easy on the eyes. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He didn’t seem fazed by the compliment, instead he took a deep breath and regarded the flames with severity. “I never thought I’d use  _ infatuation  _ on someone over something as trivial as lust. And whatever you put in your beverages,” He added with an after thought.

She smiled again and approached his side. Her tail uncoiled from her arm and moved up to the mantel to grasp the glass of blue liquid, it floated at the end of her tail and she brought it over the fire and poured it onto the flames. “Dykum, it causes unexplained happiness and a strive to please others. Minor addictive powders, nothing too dangerous.” As the blue liquid fell on the fire it sizzled and bubbled, the ginger smell evaporated into the air and the flames turned bright green before dying away completely. “Besides, the color is pretty.”

He released a soft snort, again performing something that would be unusually rude coming from a Prosaic, or any other creature, really. “Drugging me for a favor, Mara. That’s low, even for you.”

“Nothing too dangerous.” She repeated her head tilted to the side and she looked up at him through her lashes. “And did I hear you say we weren’t friends?”

He smiled in full this time, his perfect white teeth glimmering. For a moment her own composure faltered for a second. He was beautiful, yet the unknown power he held blazed in his eyes. “No, Mara. Not friends. But a favor, I suppose, I shall have to consider.”

This time it was her turn to squint at him with a much stronger malicious pull to her suspicion. She had in no way perceived him to be one to give in so easily, and she knew for a fact that the Dykem had not affected him at all. Either way, she needed his help, so why argue with his reasoning for consent. “Lovely, lovely. Rama, Darling, have a seat.”

He turned to fully face her and placed his left elbow on the mantel, his muscles rippling across his chest and his wings rustling into a different position. He towered over her by about six inches and met her with a level, gentle gaze. “I can stand, Mara, but thank you.”

***

She turned away from him, her black cloak snapping against the air vacuum she created. Her tail floated beside her and placed the now empty glass on a granite side table. He watched as she sank down into one of the deep red velvet armchairs that sat in front of the fireplace. She was unlike any other. She wasn’t dainty or fragile. There was no fluid or continuous motions within her. Yet everything made sense. And she was beautiful.

As she turned sideways in the chair and crossed her legs over the armrest her dress hem fell to her hips and she made no move to adjust it. The dark shadow that fell between her thighs created an unusually strong pull for his eyes but then so did her tail. It draped out from under her and entwined itself, this time around her thigh and knee.

She watched as the emotions spread across his face. Her tail slowly tightened around her leg and he eyed it. Not with repulse or hatred for the mark of the devil, but with a simple, innocent curiosity. The room was darker now that she put the fire out, the dimness of the torches lit only the perimeter of the room. He stood in front of the empty fireplace and again provided the majority of the light in the space. It was not as if the color came out of him but rather surrounded him. A sense of security it seemed to find in clinging to his skin.

“Rama.” She eyed him from the chair, “Sit.”

He met her gaze and found a cold, unwavering demeanor. When emotions were held inside her eyes turned strangely cat like. They looked at him now, even through him. He paid no mind to the influence she held in that moment and simply moved to the chair next to hers. Unlike her his movements were graceful but planned. It was satisfying to watch the light follow him and the soft feathers ruffle with movement when his wings twitched.

He sat softly and extended his wings to the sides in order to make it more comfortable and feasible to sit in general. His legs comfortably fell apart and he brushed off imaginary dust from his pant leg. As he took a deep breath his chest expanded. He could feel the heat of her eyes on him, he just wasn’t ready to return the gaze. When he finally looked up her eyes had returned to normal and she smiled gently.

“I am sitting, Mara. What is it you would like from me?”

“Must we rush,” She responded softly and raised her right hand above her head as if holding up an imaginary tray. “A drink?”

He raised his eyebrows gently and opened his mouth to respond. Before the reply could be formed a tray appeared in her hand with two wine glasses filled with a red liquid. She lowered the tray and her tail uncoiled from her leg to help set it on the table between the two of them. “No drugs. I promise.” Her tail gently grabbed one of the glasses and brought it back to her and then returned to its place on her leg.

Reluctantly, he leaned forward to retrieve the other glass. He watched her over the rim as they both slowly tipped the contents into their mouths. He could smell the sweet scent of fruit and tasted an even sweeter flavor, it fizzed and bubbled all the way to his stomach. He set the glass back on the tray after one small sip and watched her drain her glass until it was empty.

“A drink,” he said softly. His mind was slowing to the movements of the room. The words suddenly became hard to form. “And now the favor?”

She smiled, a nasty grin that cut across her face. His eyes met hers and his head began to feel heavy. As his fingers went numb he laid his head back on the chair. Her face was fading in and out of his vision and he tried to focus, his eyelids drooping.

“Mara?” He whispered but she only smiled as his eyes closed and he fell into the dark.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to lead into something here. Kind of wrote itself until I can get a better control of the scene..
> 
> happy reading :)

_ Her colors were changing and the room was spinning around them. One moment she looked at him over her shoulder and smiled. He could feel his face return the grin, glad for her happiness. Then her face transformed and she was very mad, her sharp teeth bared. She looked at him and within the next moment her hands were at his throat, her nails breaking the skin of his neck. His blood dripped down his body in warm trails but he couldn’t fight her off. Nor did he want to. Then he was alone in the dark. The blood was gone and so was she. He couldn’t see anything which was unusual, his glow was gone and without looking he knew his wings were, too. _

The room was cold. There was very little lighting but that was unimportant. He still shone very brightly, despite the physical trauma his body was going through. He wouldn’t open his eyes yet though he was fighting the fog in his mind. His arms hung from two metal shackles that were chained to the ceiling above his head. His barefeet reached the floor but that hardly made it more comfortable.

The muscles stretching along his torso were tight and sore. He had no idea how long he had been asleep or how long he’d been chained up. Ever so slowly he tried to lift his head and stretch the muscles in his neck. It took all the strength he had to move his head in both directions before resting it against his arm.

Next, his wings. They rustled and lifted a bit as he began to slowly extend them out to full length. He couldn’t make it. His eyes flew wide open and his head was suddenly at full alert. He looked down at the intricate harness strapped across his chest that held his wings to his back and prevented them from being extended to their full length. Angel wings didn’t have any extra powers or control but if they were not regularly used or exercised the strength would drain. Depending on how long he’d been like this he might not be able to fly for a week after being released. And that was not going to happen.

He cleared his throat and the sound echoed throughout the dim room. It was then he noticed movement in the shadows of the room. Two bright yellow cat eyes beamed from the corner. The cat was watching him while lazily cleaning a paw. Then, as if bored, he got up, stretched and slowly walked to the door which opened wide enough for him to slip out and soundly shut behind him. No doubt on his way to inform his mistress the prisoner had awoken.

***

“Mors, dear, do hurry.” Mara sat at the grand table in an unusually brightly lit dining room. “I don’t have much time at all.”

The door to the kitchen opened and Mors came in with a tray balanced between his two shaking hands. “Yes, yes, of course, my lady.” The dishes on the tray rattled as he hastily placed it on the table in front of her. The food was simple, but she simply didn’t have an appetite anymore. What was she to do now? Where does she go from here? How long could this go on? When would they come?

“Mara? My lady?” She broke from her reverie to see Mors waiting patiently to be dismissed. “I asked if you needed anything else.”

She pursed her lips, refraining from looking at the short, overweight, anxious creature at her side, and thought for a moment. “Yes, in fact, I need you to prepare a second smaller portion and a pitcher of ice water. And do make haste.”

As the door to the kitchen swung shut behind him the door on the other side of the room swung open and her cat, Deva, walked in. He jumped up onto the table and sat down, his eyes found hers as he began to clean his paw again.

“Ah,” She whispered and stood up. “Yes, of course.”

Within moments she was out of her chair and stalking toward the door Deva had entered through. She called over her shoulder that time had in fact run out and Mors would need to deliver the tray to room number 8 one floor below them. The door swung shut behind her and her black cloak billowed in her wake as she made her way down the dim hallway to the spiral staircase at the end. When she reached the bottom she passed two doors before stopping in front of number 8. She paused and took a deep breath, she didn’t know it but she radiated an unknown amount of warmth. Her emotions fell into all corners of misunderstanding. The number plaque gleamed against the torch mount. She pushed the door open.

As she entered the room a few torches ignited themselves making the light spread throughout the room. Simultaneously making the shadows grow bigger. Her eyes fell on the brightest asset in the room. Rama. His arms stretched above his head and the intricate harness strapped about his chest and wings.

Her throat was dry but she stated clearly, “You must be thirsty.”

He opened his eyes and stared at the ground. He licked his lips and lifted his head to meet her gaze. There was absolutely nothing in his eyes that spoke of hatred or anger. He just looked at her and saw her for who she was. “Nothing matters more to me, Mara, then for you to let my wings free.”

Her tail floated out from behind her and encircled her right wrist. He could tell she was conflicted. He noticed that her tail was in fact cutting off the circulation in her hand as she reached for the hem of her cloak to wipe at her forehead. She was no longer wearing the leather gloves and her bony knuckles were emphasized by her sharp red fingernails. Her eyes were that of a frightened but angered feline.

For her it mattered, but she did not yet understand why- a knock came and she immediately averted his gaze. She moved to open the door, only a crack, and retrieved a tray of bread, soup and water. Rama couldn’t see who the messenger was but that didn’t much matter to him. Mara made it very easy to understand that it was her whom he was to deal with. She brought the tray to a small table closer to him but she kept her eyes averted as she poured a glass of water into the crystal tumbler. At last she stood before him with water and a piece of bread.

He opened his mouth to speak but she shook her head and raised the glass to his mouth. His eyes met hers and she slowly tipped the glass for him to drink. He drank all of it in four swallows and then licked his lips, nothing could save the droplets that had escaped from the corners of his mouth and rolled down his chin. Her tail retrieved the empty tumbler and set it aside while she broke the piece of bread and raised it. He looked her in the eyes again and raised his eyebrows, his lips pressed shut. She rolled her eyes and returned a level gaze, eyebrows raised, as well.

They stood like that for seconds. Then he opened his mouth ever so slightly, breaking the silent standoff. She fed him the first piece of bread and then the second. As he slowly chewed and swallowed she gently wiped away the trails of water on his chin.

There was so much happening and his gaze was so strong she felt like it would all fall apart. But she could do this, she had to do this. She had no time for trivial, Prosaic emotions. In fact, she had little time at all.

“How did you do it?” Rama whispered.

She looked into his eyes and since everything about this was rather mad libbed she decided it wouldn’t hurt to share what she had done to him.

“The glasses of wine,” She replied quietly as her fingers began to unbuckle a part of the harness across his chest, but why? “It is a special brew, I make it myself. I call it Harmony. If you think about the liquid as a group it is much easier to understand. A bottle of it is one group. Once it is poured into glasses, each individual glass is a group. The group must remain intact upon consumption for it to remain harmless.” Her hands moved about his chest unclasping metal and leather. “Because you took one sip, you separated the group, thus it put you to sleep. I finished my whole glass and it was a lovely glass of wine, I might say.” She sighed as the last strap came undone. She began to slowly pull the harness off his shoulders and wings. “Thus, Harmony.” The harness fell to the floor.

No time passed from the sound of the metal hitting the ground to the movement of his wings extending at full length. The force of the motion blew her away from him a few steps, her cloak and dress flowing behind her. The bowl of soup and glass tumbler flew to the floor and shattered. The torches closest to him blew out completely. Mara’s hands flew up reflexively, covering her face. The wind tunnel continued for a few seconds and she could here the repetitive flap of his wings.

When it finally began to quiet down, she looked up at him, having only now realized that the force had brought her into a crouch on the floor. She slowly straightened up and stared at him with sharp cat eyes as he slowly lowered himself back to the ground and brought his wings down gently onto his back. His hands still shackled above his head. A fresh sheen of sweat glistened across his chest and he seemed much more alert. She couldn’t help but wonder if she made a mistake. Strictly avoiding eye contact she gathered herself and left the room, the door slamming soundly behind her.

***

Time had passed. He had dozed and dreamt and woke in an endless cycle. When she returned she was no longer wearing the cloak clasped by medallions at her shoulders and it seemed as though her red dress had changed as well. It was longer and thinner, clinging to her frail form and figure, emphasizing every curve and jut of bone.

She brought another tumbler of water and at that moment he realized the table and the mess he had made before- how long had it been?- was gone. “I am willing to consider this favor of yours, Mara.”

“Of course you are, you have no other choice but to,” She replied sharply. She brought the water for him to drink. Again, he drained the entire glass, thirst or distrust? She couldn’t tell. She raised her hand above her head and the empty tumbler dissolved into thin air. Her cat-like eyes turned to his blue razor sharp stare. “I am… unsatisfied.”

That seemed to be the last thing he was expecting. Misunderstanding and confusion clouded his eyes, “I don’t understand. You live here in a mansion, a castle, of sorts. You control many lands. You throw grand parties that no one would miss. You have creatures and Prosaics at your service. What more could you possibly want.”

Although his voice was soft and gentle the last sentence had so much underlying malintent that she looked away. It wasn’t a question, it was a matter of fact statement, no different then, “How could you?”

Mara worried at her lower lip. “If that’s how you feel then… I am not so sure you can understand what I mean.”

Her voice had changed, quieter, less secure than her usual demands entailed. He watched her watch the floor. Her dress rippled slightly with every breath she took. Was she sad? He thought he heard pain.

“I will send Mors for your release. I apologize for the confusion, however, I wish never to see your face again.” Her voice cracked, she couldn’t help it. She turned toward the door.

“Mara,” She heard the faint flap of wings behind her, “Mara, don’t go. Help me to understand. I did not intend to hurt you. Please. Help me to understand.”

She froze with her hand on the door and her back to him. Tears were streaming down her face but she didn’t want him to see them. His voice grounded her but the tears kept coming. She wanted to disappear into an abyss, maybe one of her own creation. She wanted nothing more than to undo the last few days of her life, the last months, years. Her hate was so strong, yet there was never a moment in her entire life she hated anything more than she hated herself. How does one come back from that. Rama would never feel this way. He was perfect. He was an angel.

But right now, he was her angel.

“Mara?”

She wiped the tears from her face and turned to face him. “I am not satisfied. I am unhappy, Rama. I am broken. I- I am lonely. Do you understand that? Do you know what it feels like to be hated by everyone? Do you know what it feels like to _hate_ the very reflection of yourself? Do you have any idea of what it is like to be as low as a Prosaic only known for her looks and her devil’s marks and maybe even her actions? But sure as heaven, never for her thoughts or her feelings or… her heart.” Her voice broke again and small sob racked through her ribcage, fresh tears flowing. She covered her face with her hands. He was silent but she could hear the clinking of the chains above his head.

Before she could compose herself his arms were around her and they collapsed to the floor. She cried out in agony at his touch and the tears flowed endlessly. He held her tight in his arms as she cried. The pain she felt, the way she let go in his arms, it crushed the very existence of his faith. His wings came around the two of them and the darkness spread like a sickness around them as his light faded to nothing. A single tear of golden liquid slid down his face and fell into her hair. Her pain was endless and there was nothing he could do.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is slow.. 
> 
> I want to make sure I am able to make this relationship work. or not.
> 
> Happy reading and holidays. Let me know if you want to see anything specific happen or have a hope for what direction this should go in.
> 
> Won't post again until the week after New Years.

“You could’ve escaped this entire time and you chose not to. Why?” She spoke matter of factly but with genuine curiosity. Her red glossed nails skimmed over his skin as she unlocked the metal cuffs from around his wrists, the broken chain links clinking gently as they dangled from each one. She placed each cuff on the a small table next to a luxurious black leather sofa.

They had moved to her bedroom, but neither had spoken of the incident that occurred in room 8. His light had come back to him but he was almost certain she had not noticed that it had disappeared, he himself couldn’t find an explanation for it. He was thankful for the time he had to mull it over before she would be questioning him about it, if ever.

The room was a long expanse to the left and right of the double door entry. Her bed sat on pedestal at the far left end of the room. Three steps up was a bed covered in multiple blankets of different textures and varying shades of red. It was large for one person but could comfortably fit two and even then with room to spare. Looking out into the room from the bed you could see the black sofa and various tables arranged in front of another stone fireplace, much like the room where all of this had begun.

There were red chairs on both sides of the fireplace and torches lined the room, dimly lighting the place. The window along the wall across from the door was again draped in a heavy velvet curtain. Rama wondered if it was the light she wanted protection from or the something else that made her feel like hiding. Dressers and desks lined the wall beneath the window, but he noticed there were no mirrors. Or clocks.

“What time is it?” He gently rubbed his wrists after she removed the cuffs, though any marks that had been left had already healed over.

Her eyes flashed for a moment and she responded more sternly, “Why didn’t you leave?”

He took a deep breath and looked down at her, “I guess I wanted to see where this was going.” After a moment he added, “I was also not entirely aware that I  _ had _ enough strength to break those chains, learn something new every… day?”

She ignored the questioning tone of his and muttered rather snarkily, “How humble of you.”

“What is the time, Mara?”

“I only know that it is approaching nightfall, but I am unaware of your time.” She moved to sit on the leather sofa sinking into the corner looking small and fragile, her tail again seeking solace around her thigh and knee, trapping parts of the fabric of her dress.

He hesitated and then moved to sit next to her. His wings moved out and up to accommodate for his position on the middle of the couch, mindful of her space as well. “I wasn’t aware the time worked differently here. Why is that?”

She had been watching him settle, the way he adjusts, careful of his wings. Irritated by his questions. “I hate time. It is my biggest enemy, always has been. It is not much different than your world but you will feel it when you leave. Do they ever bother you?”

She was eyeing his wings again, with intrigue but a strong misunderstanding. He smiled gently, “Never. I was born with them. They are as much a part of me as my arms and legs. Though, I think I care about them more.”

Mara nodded slowly and looked away from his razor sharp stare and gleaming smile. She waved her hand and a small red flame ignited in the fireplace. It made her skin look sickly, with small patches darker than others. Her golden eyes turned a burnt orange as she stared into the flames. Rama had noticed she had never been quite the same since he escaped earlier. Her demeanor was off, her attitude different. He wasn’t sure if this was new or she simply no longer felt the need to hide it. The silence stretched on and he watched her watch the flames.

After he realized she wasn’t going to speak again he softly and quietly cleared his throat. “Mara,” she didn’t turn to look at him again but he could tell she was listening, “Will you please talk to me about what happened earlier.”

She didn’t move but the muscles in her cheek tightened. Before he could think about it, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. Her eyes widened and at first she tried to pull her hand out of his grip but she knew that would be futile. So she gave in and let him guide her head to his leg.

After she was relatively comfortable, curled up with her head resting on his thigh. He adjusted his wings, extending them out to the sides and leaned back completely. Her breathing was short and quick but he could tell she had accepted the new position.

“I want you to help me to understand.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. Sensing no resistance he moved it down her arm, squeezing gently. Her skin was ice cold but she showed no sign of discomfort. When they had first met she was radiating so much heat he thought she might be sick. He was now beginning to realize her temperature might more accurately represent her feelings rather than her actual body degree.

“I do not know how to do that for you, Rama.” It came out in such a small whisper he almost thought he imagined her saying it.

When he looked down again she closed her eyes. Her skin slowly turned paler, her tail loosened its grip around her leg and her temperature began to warm ever so slightly. Before he could form a response that wouldn’t shut her down again or chance hurting her feelings she had fallen soundly asleep.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope everyone had a good holiday and new year.. 
> 
> So I think we're getting somewhere this time. I feel like this chapter is shorter but also I haven't really been focusing on the length.
> 
> I'm adding new tags as I go along, please do be afraid, I hope you like it. Leave comments or questions.
> 
> Happy reading!

_ There was a small noise and a murmur. She could feel a soft pressure against her lower back. There had never been anything more inviting than that pressure. But it left. She wanted to see where it went but she was terrified to open her eyes, she felt safe in the darkness. Her skin felt warm and prickly and she thought she laughed but it was more of a cough. Or a moan. She wasn’t sure but it was beginning to get hard to breath. She felt so alone, so cold, yet she was breaking a sweat from the heat. She could feel it dripping down her skin. It felt like blood, thick and wet, but it was cold. Then her stomach hurt, an angry rip tore across her abdomen. She opened her eyes but the pain was blinding, she began to scratch and tear at her own stomach, ripping away the skin with her fingernails. Warm black blood spilled all over her and the bed. The pain persisted, she watched as the pool of blood poured out of her and she- _

A tearing shriek climbed it’s way out of her throat. She sat upright abruptly in the bed, the covers falling off her. She was wearing a thin red slip that clung to her sweat soaked body. Her hands were tight around her stomach, hugging it to herself. She was crying and gulping  in air, trying to bring herself back to the candlelight in the room.

“Mara! Mara,” Rama appeared out of nowhere and climbed the three steps to the bed. “Mara, what is it? Are you alright?”

She thought he looked tired but she couldn’t tell if it was because he just woke up or because he hadn’t slept at all. That wasn’t important though. She had the same dream again, well not the same, but a similar outcome. The pain.

“How long was I asleep for?”

He stammered through a response, saying she had fallen asleep on the couch and he had moved her to the bed. He eyed her with care, as if she would shatter like dropped glass at any moment. “Couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours.”

She took a deep breath and slowly pulled the covers up to her chest. She watched as he carefully lowered himself to the edge of the bed. His wings adjusted and he ran his fingers through his ruffled locks that lay scattered around his head.

“Were you sleeping?” Her voice was still sharp and untrusting, but she refused to ask the real questions.

At the sound of her voice Rama raised his eyes to hers. They were as catlike as ever, he had no doubt that if she was a cat in this very moment her haunches would have been raised in high alert. Fear was a terrifying thing. He treaded lightly, “I dozed for a while. I woke when- just recently.”

“You are a terrible liar, Rama.” She got out of bed on the opposite side he was sitting on, dragging one of the damp red sheets with her. When she approached one of the black armoires the doors opened on their own. She pulled out a thin cloak of an unflattering dark red shade. The sheet fell to the floor as she threw the cloak over her shoulders and tied the strings around her neck. When she was done the doors closed and she turned to face him, “I know that I woke you.” He was shamelessly watching her from the same place she had left him on the bed.

He only shrugged, almost arrogantly but he simply couldn’t just  _ be _ arrogant. She annoyingly rolled her eyes and moved away, stepping lightly but purposefully down the three steps and toward the fireplace. As she moved through the room the candles and torches on the wall went out. When she arrived at the fireplace she lowered herself to the floor in front of the soft red flames.

She could feel and see him approaching. He sat down in front of the fire as well, a few feet to her left. “May I venture at an understanding?”

Mara didn’t respond, she didn’t look at him and she sure as heaven did not feel like talking right now. Yet she wanted him to stay. But why?

Rama shifted closer and she could feel his small and cool breath on her shoulder. “I would like to at least attempt to clarify my understanding.”

The silence stretched on. When she still didn’t respond and wouldn’t avert her eyes from the fire he reached out and lifted her face to look into his eyes, his thumb and finger softly cupping her chin. Her eyes widened again and she raised another guard up but he kept eye contact and decided not to fear her fear. “I have made up my mind. I would like to grant you this favor, Mara.”

She swallowed with effort. Speaking dryly and just barely above a whisper, she hissed, “You don’t even know it yet.”

Their faces were so close their noses were almost touching. His eyes roamed the features of her face, lingering on her pale lips before moving back up to her eyes. “Forgive me for jumping to co nclusions,” he responded roughly and then he kissed her.

 

***

 

Mara jumped internally when their lips touched. He was gentle and soft but instinctively searching. He brought both hands to her cheeks holding her near him. He felt a general warmth as her hands encircled both of his wrists. He slowly teased at her lips until they parted and he deepened the kiss. Mara was losing her grip on the vision of what existed around her. Rama tasted like warm gold, he tasted like the sun, something she never thought she would have liked.

A wave of familiar heat that began in her stomach spread throughout her entire body. She let herself fall into the kiss. The sound of an instant but small shudder of his wings brought her back to the situation. She became afraid and a sharp pang of terror spread throughout her body.

“Mm,” Rama exclaimed in surprise and pulled back slightly. He brought has hand to his lower lip and could see drops of blood. He could feel a bead of it drip down his chin. In an instant Mara was standing and backing away into the corner to the right of the fireplace.

“No no no no no. Rama.” Her fingers plunged into her hair roughly and then she bent slightly and hugged her stomach tightly, “No, no. I can’t. I can’t.”

Rama stood immediately at the sound of her distress and approached Mara slowly. Speaking softly he tried to find her again, she was lost in herself staring at the floor. He couldn’t let her slip away into herself, he knew now that was a potentially dangerous place for her to be. Her breath was escaping her now and he could see the insistent beat of her heart beneath her skin, it seemed to leave an impression on her chest.

“Mara. It’s okay. Mara, look, please.” He brushed a stray strand of damp black hair off her forehead. “ _ Look _ .”

Her eyes followed as he licked his lower lip and when some of the blood disappeared she noticed that the cut was gone. “Do you see? I am okay, Mara, I heal very quickly.”

A moment passed and then her feline eyes glazed over. “I could hurt you.”

He shook his head no, very minimally. She brought her hands to his face and touched his lip where the cut had been. Her thumb slid down his lip and smeared the partially dried blood. Her hands moved about his face, touching his hairline, his eyebrows, brushing over his eyelashes. She traced his jawline and then let her hands hold his face.

Rama watched her with almost as much fascination as she put into him. He could feel her fingernails graze his skin. Her hands were soft but bony, yet he let her touch him until she felt satisfied.

When their eyes met again she was gently rubbing his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. “I could hurt you,” Mara repeated, in a whisper.

Rama tried to shake his head again but her hands held him still. Slowly she raked her right thumb nail across his cheek cutting open the skin. He flinched and blinked his eyes as they began to water but her hands held his head still. He breathed in deeply through his nose. His lips rolled inward in an attempt to stifle a cry or a groan. His hands grasped at the fabric of her cloak but he didn’t fight her anymore than that.

Blood seeped out of the cut and into her fingers. It was warm and a deep red. She cocked her head to the side, studying him. Why had she thought he wouldn’t bleed red?

After a few seconds she watched as the cut began to patch itself up. The skin folding together and leaving a seamless line that too eventually faded away. The only thing left was the blood smeared across his face and covering her hand, dripping down her wrist.

Rama didn’t know what to do, what to say. He swallowed and tried to form… anything. He thought he saw her smile and then her face told nothing. Her eyes were still catlike but less clear. What was she thinking?

At last she spoke, “I could hurt you, Rama.” And with that she pulled her cloak tighter around herself and left the room. The door shutting quietly but soundly behind her.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh.... I am so sorry this chapter is a week late. My posting is going to be so sporadic for a while since I just started a new semester and it is class overload. My apologies. I will try to keep up but I am falling behind in my writings too.
> 
> This chapter is interesting, it picks up right where we left off last chapter, and ends in dream world for both of them. I promise more explanations to come, just bare with me.
> 
> Also I will probably keep randomly adding tags as they come to me.
> 
> Happy reading

She slammed into the dining room and then through the swinging door into the kitchen. “Mors!”

Dishes and pots seemed to rattle within the room and Mors wobbled out from nowhere in particular. “Ye-yes, my lady?”

She sneered and growled, “Find a new home.” He disappeared without a second to spare. She made her way to one of the cabinets along the wall. The kitchen was unexpectedly small compared to the rest of the estate but it served as both a working space for Mors and was more than enough to feed herself and supply for her parties when needed.

Mara grabbed a bottle of Harmony and a tumbler. She uncorked it and poured a small glass, downing it immediately and then pouring another. She set the bottle down on the counter and leaned against it. Her breathing was still heavy and fast. Was she mad? Why was she feeling the way she felt? Why couldn’t she name the way she felt?

Rotating the half filled tumbler in her hand she analyzed the contents. She had explained to Rama about Harmony, she had told him it makes you fall asleep. The truth is it actually puts you in a near comatose state, knocking you out for anywhere from a few hours to a couple of days. It was very dangerous stuff. She had gone out on a limb using it on him.

She attempted to slow her breath and tried to calm her thoughts. She tipped the second glass of the contents into her mouth and placed the empty glass next to the bottle. Deva had wondered in lazily and jumped up onto the counter nearby her, yet seemed ignorant of her presence, still cleaning a paw.

She had made a mistake. She definitely should have left him locked up, if he could manage to stay that way. Now she wasn’t sure there was anything she could do to keep him here. Unless she drugged him again. Or she could let him go. She needs to let him go. But there wasn’t anything she was really doing that prevented him from leaving on his own. The real concern is why they haven’t come yet. Or was it why he hadn’t left yet?

Mara gave up thinking about what she should do next and instead moved her train of thought to what had just happened. What  _ had  _ just happened?

She pinched the bridge of her nose, hard. In her mind the kiss played like the most vivid dream that is was. The way he had touched her. How he had tasted like the sun. She could see what he was trying to give her, but he had no idea what it would mean for him. How had he known what she had wanted?

She grabbed the glass from the counter and yelled angrily as she threw it at the opposite wall. It shattered on impact and the glass rained to the floor. Deva cried out just as angrily and left the room at a sprint. Her breathing was harsh again and she decided she  _ was _ angry. She was so angry but she didn’t know why or about what. She wanted to hurt someone but that would all be for nothing. Or would it?

Blindly she grasped the bottle of Harmony from behind her and took a sip straight from the bottle. Maybe she could go through with this. What was  _ this _ though? Suddenly, she felt her thoughts slow and couldn’t focus very well. Her head felt heavy as she looked down at the bottle in her hand. She blinked a few times and then whispered an expletive before sinking to the floor and falling away into an abyss of her own creation.

***

Rama paced the room. This is the second time she had angrily stormed out on him and both times he couldn’t follow her out, this time because she had locked him in her room. He was tired and the more he thought about it the more exhausted he became.

There wasn’t really any reason for him to stay here any longer. But he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to stay. And Mara was right, he was a terrible liar.

Everytime he closed his eyes he thought about the kiss. The way she hung onto him. The way she felt and tasted. How her temperature and her emotions, change so quickly. She had gotten so afraid but for a moment he thought she had seen what he was giving her, what she could have. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe that was not what she had wanted after all.

But she had gotten so angry. Or afraid.

He shook his head, she had definitely been angry. And afraid.

He stalked over to the window and threw the velvet curtain aside and saw- nothing. Just nothing. He let the curtain fall back in place and then threw it aside again. Still nothing. For a second he stood there with his head cocked in confusion. He decided on some magic being in play and gave it up, letting the curtain fall back over again. As he walked back to the sofa he gave a small glare over his shoulder at the curtain, as if that would change what had just happened.

He sat down in a huff. Maybe he was just annoyed, or irritated. Of all the parties Mara has thrown he never thought much about her life outside of those parties. He had, however, noticed her unusually Prosaic ways. She was a demon, wasn’t she? She had the demon marks, he thought, but he had never met a demon act in the ways Mara had. Yet she lived in one of the largest properties in one of the more larger estates of Hell. Had she inherited it from a demon relative? That seemed to make the most sense. He wished he knew more about the area, how much this property actually consisted of. How much she actually had control over. He wished he knew more about her.

He was giving himself a headache, running around in circles. His wings stretched out as he leaned back on the sofa and rested his head. He scratched his chest and then he touched his cheek gently. The sharp pain of the incision she had cut across his face was ingrained in his memory though he had no mark to show for it. Yet it hadn’t been a bad pain. Certainly not the worst thing in the world, but it had stirred something in him and it had created something behind her eyes.

He closed his eyes a moment and rubbed them gently. He was terribly exhausted, his light flickered but he didn’t notice, he only felt it. He ignored it.

It was a weight in his mind. Why he was losing his light. They hadn’t come. He knew they wouldn’t ever since his light went out the first time. He knew they would never come.

Did Mara know? He wondered. She hadn’t seen him lose his light the first time, had she? Was she afraid of them coming?

He opened his eyes and looked into the fireplace Mara had lit for them earlier. He watched as the flame died. He sat up and stared at the fire, blinking a few times. But the flame and fire had most definitely died out. He looked at the three to four other torches that had remained alight in the room. As if on cue each and everyone of them went out and he was plunged into darkness except for his own pale light.

“Mara.” He had spoken the name aloud and stood up at attention. Her magic had died out, something had happened. He basically flew to the door and tried the handle again. Still locked. He began pounding on it. “Mara! Mara, open the door!” He pounded hard with both fists hoping against all odds that someone would hear and do something. “Mara!”

He tried the handle again and again, it must not have been locked by her magic. Or maybe it had been locked with a stronger magic.

Exhaustion was fighting through his system and he was beginning to feel sick. Something terribly wrong was happening: to Mara, to him, to this world. His light flickered again and seemed to grow paler, dying out just as the fireplace and the torches had. He reached for the handle again and this time he heard a click. The door was unlocked.

His head was heavy and his feet seemed to weigh him down into the floorboards. “Mara,” He called out again, but it only came out as a whisper, a gasp. He grasped the door frame and leaned out into the dark hallway. His vision was blurred and he could barely see with what little light he had left in him. He couldn’t help sinking to his knees and then falling to the floor.

His body would no longer move but his thoughts were fleeting. This hadn’t happened when she had fallen asleep, why was it happening now? Why was it affecting him?

His eyelids closed and he couldn’t open them again, he kept trying to move, to crawl across the floor, straining every muscle, but he remained perfectly still on the ground.

The torches in the hallway had gone out, too. There was no light around except for the pale pulse of light that emanated from Rama’s body, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His heart was beating but his mind had slowed to the speed of his body.

Even slower was the gradual fade of his light into a blink in the darkness and then into nothing at all.

The darkness had engulfed the hallways and the rooms and all of the creatures within.

***

_ She blindly reached out for him and felt an incredible softness. After a moment she realized she had touched his wing. She pulled her hand back in shock. Something seemed wrong about touching his wings, they were so fragile. But he turned around and he smiled. She could feel herself smile back at him but he was moving away. Or was she moving away. For some reason, it didn’t matter, she had to get back to him. Then her stomach started hurting again. But it wasn’t a bad hurt. Not yet anyway. She had to get back to him. She reached out again and this time she grabbed onto his wing. When he disappeared all she had left in her hand was a small fistful of feathers. And her stomach hurt. She watched as they slowly melted into blood. She tried to cup the blood with both hands to keep it from spilling. But her stomach hurt so bad her hands were trembling and the blood was slipping between her fingers. She couldn’t do anything to stop it.  _

***

_ He blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness. He wasn’t used to not being able to see by his own light. At last he could make out her figure. He wanted to touch her. But every time he took a step toward her she would make a face, but he couldn’t make it out, it was too dark and he was too far away. He wanted to ask her what was going on. He kept walking toward her and she began to shake her head vigorously. He watched as she wrapped her hands around her stomach. She was crying now, sobbing. He wanted to help her, to take her pain away. But every step he made toward her seemed to only make it worse. There was nothing he could do to help her. He was aware he was only making it worse but he couldn’t keep from moving closer. One step after the other. He watched her head fall back and her mouth open in a silent scream. The skin of her abdomen was peeling away and the blood was seeping out of her, spilling through her arms, dripping down her body. He couldn’t do anything to stop it. _


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally posting again. It has been so long. I have decided I will not be posting much during my semesters because of workload. I was able to get this in over spring break and will hopefully post more come summertime. 
> 
> Continuing on from previous chapter with obvious lapse of time due to events.. Trying to get deeper into the plot but also getting to be more of PWP.. Sorry not sorry. Do comment or reach out if you wish to see something go in a different direction. I will see what I can do.
> 
> Happy reading.

There came a time within the castle. In a room off to the side. The torch on the wall became warmer than before. And soon a flame climbed its way around the tip. Once ignited fully the light created playful shadows. The room no longer felt abandoned. Life had been brought back into the darkness. And it wouldn’t be long before the creatures would begin to stir again. 

***

Rama thought he was coming to. He felt he was leaving a rather heavy sleep. His mind was sluggish but he could hear and feel the movement in the room. The warmth and the light. After a few moments he ventured to open his eyes.

He was able to discern that he was lying in Mara’s bed in her room. His wings were extended to the sides of the pillows he was propped up on. He felt tired but his heart was beating and he was still breathing. At least that was something.

It seemed a lot had changed, something specifically but he couldn’t figure it out. One of the first things he noticed, however, was how unusually bright the room was. It seemed all of the torches had been lit, the fireplace on the far end of the room was ablaze. And, as if that hadn’t been enough, there were candles scattered about, at least one on every flat surface in sight. It was a light show compared to the usual scene Mara seemed to entertain. But there was something else.

He squinted and scanned the room, not really certain what he was looking for. He could see the entire expanse of the room and the small shadows bouncing around. The light was grand, but it was too grand for some torches and candles. Rama looked to his left and at last saw what he thought he had felt. The sun.

The velvet curtain had been pulled back from the window about a foot and the sun’s rays were shining into the room. It was beautiful and it felt absolutely wonderful.

“It’s not real.”

His head snapped to the direction in which the voice came. Mara stood at the foot of the bed, near the door. She wore a simple red gown, loose and soft, falling to the floor. It was cuffed at her wrists and dipped down her neckline a few inches. She had what looked like a heavier fabric cloak draped over her shoulders. Her tail was posed at her side curled up under a tray it was holding.

“What-” Rama’s attempt at speaking seemed to prove fruitless, he tried to clear his throat and ended up throwing himself into a fit of coughing.

Mara smiled and set the tray down on one of the dressers beside the bed. She poured a tumbler full with the pitcher of water and brought it over to him on the bed. “You will need to give yourself time to regenerate. After what you went through your body will need to rest and come back to its original state. Here, drink this.”

She moved to bring the glass to his lips as he moved to take the glass from her. Only she succeeded. His hand was pulled back by the chain that restrained it. His eyes grew wide and he glanced at his hands. The wrists were shackled again and restrained to the headboard behind him. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his wrists, as if the shackles encircling them were poking him with tiny needles.

When they met eyes again she just smiled and shrugged. He didn’t deny the glass of water though and waited patiently for the second one. When she returned with the third full glass he shook his head.

“That’s enough for now,” his voice much clearer now.

“You will need more shortly, I assure you, darling.”

“It’s not real?”

Mara was confused, she followed his eyes to the wall, the window, the curtain. The sun. She set the glass down on the dresser and moved to the bed. She barely disturbed his place in the center as she sat down on his right side. “You looked out the window when I was gone, yes?”

He snorted softly out of his nose, “More like tried to.”

She smiled again, “Tried to? Well, what did you see?”

Rama turned his head to look at her. She seemed happier, better. What had happened? “I saw nothing, Mara.”

Her smile grew wider. She reached out and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. “What did you want to see?”

He was shocked by the touch and the sudden proximity, it seemed to bring back earlier memories. The kiss, the cut. The dream. “I-I’m not sure,” he responded quietly.

Mara pulled her hand back and answered curtly, “That’s the trick. You see what you want. You didn’t know what you would see so you hadn’t been thinking about what you would have liked to see. So you saw nothing.”

Rama nodded slowly in understanding, “If that is so, then what am I seeing now? The sun that I want or the sun that you want?”

She smiled again and leaned in close, gently she placed a kiss on his cheek. It was soft and warm. He could feel it lingering. After a beat she pulled back. “That depends on who wants it more.” She rose from the bed. “You should rest, we have a lot to do and I’ll need you to be in good conditions. All things considered.” She retrieved the tray from the dresser and left the room.

***

_ For a second he felt as though he couldn’t breath. It turned out that he was breathing rather heavily. There was a heat inside his chest that was growing and spreading to the tips of his body. All he could see was her and all he could feel was this heat. It felt lovely on his skin but it scared him a little bit. He had no idea as to where it was coming from, what its source was. She flashed a small smile and ducked her head in shyness. Shyness? She was never shy, was she? That smile had told other things, wicked things. He heard her laugh, the same throaty laugh he had only heard a handful of times in his life. But she smiled again and the heat got so much hotter he felt as though he couldn’t breath. _

Rama opened his eyes and took a deep breath. That was an unusual dream, but lately they all had been. He didn’t much entertain the thought of dwelling on them. The room was dimmer, the curtain had been closed again and less candles were lit.

He looked at his wrists, still shackled to the bed frame. After a thought he gave a rough tug on them, seeing as how they hadn’t stopped him last time. This time, however, he was able to watch as a faint shimmer of light waved through the chainlinks and very suddenly he felt the same sharp pain in his wrists as before, followed by a flash of heat. It left his hands and fingers tingling and his chest rising and falling in heavy, short breaths.

The door opened and Mara entered. She climbed the steps to the dresser that already held a fresh tray and some bread. She poured him another glass and brought a piece of bread.

He drank and ate in silence. She spoke no words to him and he invited no conversation with her either. He studied her movements and her eyes. The way she broke the bread into pieces and every time he took a bite his lips would brush the tips of her fingers. She avoided looking him in the eyes, everything was focused on his mouth, when she tipped the glass up to his lips, when he took the bread.

After he ate a handful of some bread and drank two more glasses of water she stood up and brushed the crumbs off her dress and replaced the glass on the tray.

When she turned back to him she looked him directly in the eyes. Her eyes were very catlike and they seemed to find him very interesting to look at, her gaze held him still. He didn’t know what to do or say. What she was thinking was beyond him.

Her tail was posed at her side, the tip of it twitching slightly. She cocked her head a bit to the side and her eyes trailed down his body. His arms stretched out to the sides and shackled to the headboard behind him, taking in the expansion of his chest with every breath he took, the smooth skin above the hem of his blue jeans. His skin tingled with the chill and heat of her glare and his eyes widened in semi-realization.

Quietly, he cleared his throat. She brought her eyes back to his face as if interrupted. “Mara, I think we have a lot to talk about.” Mara didn’t move or respond, she only looked at him with those golden eyes. He gulped and continued, “Mara? What happened?”

In a movement he couldn’t manage to wrap his brain around, Mara was on top of him, straddling his lap. Her face was inches from his and her golden eyes bore down on him. His piercing blue eyes were wide, and entirely full of confusion. Again he was struck speechless. Part of him wanted to move away from her, to shove her off of him, but he had just gotten the feeling back in his fingers so he didn’t dare move. And a new feeling was beginning to express itself between his legs.

He just watched as Mara’s hands explored his face again. From instinct and memory of the cut on his cheek he flinched away at first, but her hands held him fast, and they were warm and soft, he forgot what they were capable of. Her thumb brushed his lower lip before she leaned in to kiss him.

Suddenly all of his senses came to life. Mara kissed him with a slow and languid persistence. A heat spread its way throughout his body and he was very much aware of the growing pressure in his jeans and the exact placement of where Mara was sitting on him.

Then he felt a warm snaking movement sliding up one of his pant legs. He jumped and pulled his head back before he realized it was her tail. She tilted her head and looked at his now bleeding lip, which he had cut on her teeth for the second time. He was breathing heavily again and trying to not think about the pressure between his legs, the way she shifted her hips ever so slightly. Everything was becoming a little maddening and things were happening so fast. He wondered, what would happen if he told her no. Would that be an option? She moved her hips again and he became aware that maybe he didn’t want to tell her no. Maybe.

Rama squeezed his eyes shut and laid his head back on the pillows, licking some of the blood off his now healed lip. His eyes flew open when he felt her hand at his throat, he tried to look at her but she held his head back with her left hand at the base of his throat. Her right hand trailed down his chest, her thumb running over his nipple. His breath hitched a moment and she paused.

“Mara-”

She hissed sharply and cut him off. After that he remained utterly quiet and felt as though his muscles loosened into a sort of temporary paralysis.

She waited still for a whole minute before she slowly ground her hips into his, harder this time. A deep groan escaped his throat and he clenched his jaw shut. Her thumb trailed a circle around his nipple and then, just as she had done to his cheek, her nail cut a thin incision just above his nipple. All of the muscles in his body tensed, he inhaled sharply through his teeth, his back arching off the bed, his arms pulling away from the headboard. He cried out again when the pain from the shackles reached his wrists. She cut slowly in an arc about three inches wide.

When it was over she watched the blood seeping out of the cut down over his left side, dripping into the bed sheets. She released his head and he looked up at her and then down at his chest. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his body and they both watched as the cut began to heal itself, only the blood remaining behind to show for what had happened.

He was still breathing heavily when he looked up at her and she smiled sweetly. His heart was racing and for some reason he couldn’t figure out, the larger portion of his mind was still focused on the weight of her sitting on his lap. Rama didn’t know what to say so he just shook his head and whispered hoarsely, “What the fuck?”


	7. Chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will never get finished. 
> 
> Happy Reading

Mara shifted off of Rama and rolled to his right side. She shot a glance at his lap, the slight bulge in his jeans, and smirked. She waited patiently until his breathing slowly began to regulate itself, even though she was still rather aware of the insistent pounding of his heartbeat. He seemed calm enough and had returned his head to the pillow.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Mara observed his chest sink as the air left him in an exasperated sigh. He squeezed his eyes shut to think but was afraid of the images on the back of his eyelids so he opened them again.

“Is everything an option?”

“It could be if I knew everything, but I hardly do.” She slid her hand over his chest causing him to flinch again and jerk his arms rather violently.

He groaned in anger and pain as the chains shimmered and sent more heat and pin pricks to his wrists. She giggled softly, “I would have thought you’d have learned by now, honestly.” She waved her hand in the air before returning it to rest on his chest. The shackles at his wrists came undone with a satisfying click and fell back against the headboard.

He hadn’t expected her to just release him like that and suddenly he had no idea what to do with his arms.

Mara glared up at him, her red lips parted and the tips of her sharp teeth showing just beneath them. He decided it’d be best to play along. He brought his right arm down to rest his hand on her hip, then her back, then her arm and back to her hip.  _ That would be okay, right? _ He hadn’t a clue.

Mara seemed to curl in closer to him, indifferent to his hand placement, her tail laying across his thighs. He shifted uncomfortably a bit and then rested his left hand on his stomach. His shoulders still felt tight but he supposed there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“You said you would grant me my favor,” Mara whispered.

He thought for a moment and replied evenly, “I did. But even you had admitted that I hadn’t a clue as to what it was.”

“Do you know now?”

“I’m not so sure I want to know now, Mara.”

She moved her hand down his chest, her fingertips sought out his. She traced feather light circles over the back of his hand and he let her. He was beginning to think there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t let her do. “Are you taking it back then?”

“What?”

She looked up at him again. “Are you taking it back? Now that you know more. Because you can. I will not be upset if you no longer wish to help me.” Her hand traveled further and played at the soft skin above his waistline.

He grabbed her wrist firmly to stop… whatever it was she was doing. “No. I am not taking it back, Mara. But we need to talk.”

She huffed and sat up, criss crossing her legs, and staring back at him. “Fine. Then talk.”

He readjusted and sat up against the pillows and headboard, ignoring the sticky but mostly dried blood along the left side of his chest, his wings spread out to the sides more comfortably. “No, Mara.  _ We _ need to talk.”

She huffed again and pushed out her lower lip in an act of defiance, but she didn’t verbally protest. Rama continued, “You have to tell me what it is I am committing to, we have to have an understanding.” He waited for her to respond.

She seemed to be thinking, looking everywhere but his eyes. She began to nod slowly but she still didn’t speak. He continued to wait. Finally, she shrugged. “Just tell me what you want to know and I will tell you.”

“Alright then, what exactly do you want from me?”

“Sex.”

His eyes widened and snapped back to hers. He opened and closed his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out at first. “Right.”

Her eyes squinted in scrutiny at his response and she looked hurt. “Why do you act so surprised? I thought you said you knew.”

“No, I did know. I did.” He composed his features, “I just didn’t expect you to be so-”

“-blunt.” She barked a laugh then began to laugh in earnesty. “You expected modesty, Angel.”

He rolled his eyes in response, something that seemed almost like a compliment. Almost. “Okay. So you want…  _ that _ . That’s fine. And I  _ did _ know. So I agree with that.” He took a deep breath, adamantly ignoring the heat rushing to his cheeks and her soft giggles. “What else?”

Again, no hesitation. “Blood.”

He quirked an eloquently arched eyebrow, “I suppose I should have seen that one coming. May I ask why?”

She shrugged, “The creature part of me has an affinity for blood. Of course, I certainly wasn’t craving it until I first tasted it. But now that I have tasted it, it is my main source of nourishment.  _ Your _ blood, that is.”

Rama closed his eyes a moment, he was feeling light headed. This was a lot to take in all at once, really. He was trying to organize his thoughts and all of them didn’t make much sense as it was. And now this, the blood. Her creature side? He decided they could get to that later. For now he needed to get through the rest of these, so called, conditions of their relationship.

“Is this all then?”

“No.”

He took another deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “By all means, do go on.”

Mara squared her shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes, a slight hesitation this time around, but still a wave of confidence overall. She had obviously thought about what she wanted prior to this. “I want you to give me a baby.”

This time he actually choked. His mind reeled with the thought. So many problems. So many actual  _ problems _ . It simply didn’t make sense.

Mara began to play with the hem of her dress that was spread across her knees. She seemed content and childlike, as if she didn’t have his dried blood on her fingertips, as if she didn’t just ask him to give her something he simply couldn’t give her.

Rama was seriously finding it hard to breathe. He watched her. Analyzing her pale features. Her raven hair was spiked in an array around her head. He tried to think about anything but what she just said. He began to count the piercings on her left ear. Fourteen from the lobe all the way up to the pointed tip. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing.

His mind brought back to what she had just said. Could she really not know? How? Who had been in her life before… before he met her? Who was there for her? How could they not have told her?

“Mara,” He waited until she looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes, looking almost like a child herself. He swallowed, contemplating how to say this. “Mara… I am not so sure that I can give you a child.”

She cocked her head to the side and addressed him with confusion and a great deal of sadness. “Oh. I am so sorry.” She spoke with an emotion filled voice, “I had maybe thought… but I was unaware that angels were sterile.”

Of all that had happened over the course of time that Rama had been here with Mara, nothing could ever add up to the amount of pain that he felt in this very moment. His heart actually broke for her.

He slowly sat up. “No, Mara.” He took her hand in his and looked her in the eyes, speaking very slowly, “ _ I _ wasn’t aware that demons were fertile…”

The next few minutes happened so slowly that it was too fast to comprehend. Mara stared back at him without blinking, her eyes were glossed over but she still looked unusually happy, as if she was waiting for him to laugh and admit that he was only kidding. She smiled faintly but with every second that passed it began to disappear ever so slightly. Then her pupils slitted and she looked mad but maybe hurt. Her hand in his palm became ice cold as the rims of her eyes began to fill with tears. Slowly and with an utterly robotic movement she began to remove her hand from his. Reluctantly, he let her slide it out of his grip.

And then just like that she was off the bed sprinting for the door, but he reacted this time. He leaped after her and encircled her waist with his arms. Her nails scraped at his arms and she hissed angrily, “Rama! Let go of me!”

She squirmed relentlessly and fought to get away. He pulled her back to the bed and threw her down onto her back. She reached out to claw at his chest and he caught both her wrists and pinned them beside her head, flattening himself on top of her. She hissed and fought and cried out until her throat became hoarse.

He wouldn’t let her go, she wasn’t going to runaway this time.

He buried his face into her neck and waited until she had exhausted herself. Eventually she stopped fighting physically but nothing could stop the chest racking sobs that escaped her with every breath. He inhaled against her skin, she smelled faintly of burnt chocolate and cinnamon. The sobs began to quiet down and she was left simply crying in earnest.

He let go of her wrists but she didn’t move. She just laid there. Tears streaming down her face. Her eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Rama pulled back and looked down at her. Ignoring the blood dripping down his arms from her scratches, his thumbs gently wiped the tears away only for more to cascade down. He kissed her forehead and her cheek. “Mara.” He kissed her lips, gently. “Mara, tell me what to do?”

The tears kept falling. In a voice so far away yet so real and with a never before spoken pain, she whispered, “Make me forget.”

  
  



End file.
